


Enslaved

by Xanthe



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-05-15
Updated: 2001-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-20 05:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11329395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xanthe/pseuds/Xanthe
Summary: Mulder is abducted from his apartment and suffers a painful ordeal. Graphic BDSM sex.





	Enslaved

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Enslaved by Xanthe

Enslaved  
The story won the Best Short Story category in the 1999 Purple Heart Awards  
Posted 13th April, 1999.  
This one is for Geoffrey, because of something she said :-)  
Thanks to Griffin Grimes for reminding me what fun this is in his Puppeteer, which can be found on his site, or the MTA site.  
Oh, and DD posed for this pic all by himself. No wonder a girl's thoughts turn to BDSM...He looks so good in chains, doesn't he? Thanks to Mangst for letting me know where to find it.  
This is an unbeta'd PWP, just for fun. Any mistakes are therefore all mine.  
Summary: Mulder is abducted from his apartment and suffers a painful ordeal. Graphic BDSM sex.   
Rating: NC17  
Awards: Winner of the 1999 Purple Heart for Best Short Story.

* * *

ENSLAVED  
BY XANTHE

Mulder was awakened by a hand sliding across his mouth. He twisted, tried to lash out, and found his hands snapped unceremoniously into a pair of metallic cuffs.

"Fuck! Who are you? Let me go..." he panted.

"Be quiet." A voice hissed in his ear, and his stomach flipped over. The voice was dangerous, and the words were a threat. Mulder stopped struggling - he was hopelessly overpowered anyway. He lay back, helplessly, as a gag was placed in his mouth, and a strip of black fabric across his eyes. Then a hood was slung over his head. He was pulled to his feet, and hauled across the room, shoved through the door, taken out of his apartment, away from safety, and into the unknown.

The cool October air caressed his half-naked body as he was led out of his apartment block, and into a waiting car. Mulder wondered if people could see him: hooded, bound, still clad only in his boxer shorts, barefoot. The car was warm, and he squirmed in his bonds, fighting the gag, wanting to talk, to ask questions, and to make demands, but all that came out was a jumbled mumbling sound.

"Don't even try." A voice from the front seat murmured. "Just be quiet. For once." There was a grim laugh. Mulder made a face in the direction of the driver, and twisted and pulled against his cuffs. "Don't try that either. There's no escape." The voice told him, dryly. Mulder tried anyway, the metallic cuffs digging into his wrists as he tested them, but they held firm. Finally, exhausted, and feeling exposed with his naked legs, and bare chest, Mulder lay back and accepted his fate. "Good boy," the voice chuckled. "I told you it was useless. Now just hold still. I'll make you more comfortable when I get you home."

Home? Mulder ran the ramifications of that remark through his mind. Surely somebody would see him when his captor took him out of the car? His stomach did another somersault at the thought of being dragged half naked, bound, and gagged, out of the car and into public view.

"No," he tried to say, but all that came out was a muffled "nmph". His captor ignored him. The car slowed, and then pulled to a halt. Mulder felt himself shivering in anticipation. Where was he going? What the hell did this man intend to do to him? The car door opened, and a firm hand reached in and pulled him out. A blanket was draped over him.

"We wouldn't want anybody wondering at your state of...undress." That dry, commanding voice whispered in his ear. Mulder shuddered.

He was propelled along at a fast pace, and then he thought they got into an elevator. The man didn't talk to him, just held his shoulder in a tight grip. After several long minutes the elevator stopped, and the doors swished open. Mulder took his chance. He twisted out of his captor's grasp, and ran blindly into the unknown. The blanket fell from his shoulders as he fled, and Mulder felt a strangely eerie sensation, his hands tied behind his back, his face covered by the hood, and the gag preventing him from breathing properly while he was running. He blundered into a wall, bounced off it - and straight back into his captor's arms. The man held him tight against his chest for a moment, enclosing him within what felt like a circle of steel. "There'll be punishment for that later," the deep, hard voice promised. Mulder closed his eyes inside the hood, and gasped for breath, suffused with a feeling of dread. He was pushed against a doorway, and then felt his captor fumbling for a set of keys. The door behind him opened, and he half fell, half stumbled inside. With an air of clanging finality, he heard the door slam shut behind him, and with it went his last chance of escape.

Mulder stood, helpless, in the room. It was warm, but even so he could still feel the hair on his naked arms and legs rising, and goosebumps appearing on his flesh. He tried to keep his breathing calm, to listen to where his captor might be. He thought he placed the man at the other side of the room, and was sure he heard a noise over there, so he jumped halfway out of his skin when the voice spoke again, right next to his ear.

"That was foolish."

Mulder attempted a shrug - it was the only answer he could make. That voice scared him, the way it poured over him, like molten steel, both caressing and yet potentially threatening.

"I was going to release you when I got you here. As it is...I don't think you can be trusted, so the cuffs stay on."

"Hmnng phnnn." Mulder protested.

"The gag stays on too," the voice laughed. "However...I want to see the pretty prize I've captured, so the hood can come off."

Mulder felt a hand against his head, and then cool air around his ears as the hood was removed.

"That's better."

Mulder felt the man's warm breath tickling against the back of his neck. He flushed, having the uncomfortable sensation of being scrutinized, then he stiffened as he felt lips press against the side of his face. "Very nice..." The voice whispered. "Just the sort of plaything I enjoy. I've thought about you for a very long time, Mulder. There are all sorts of things I want to do to you. You might even enjoy some of them." Mulder gasped as rough fingers tweaked one of his nipples. "On the other hand..." the voice muttered, sliding sensuously over Mulder's body like rough, cool silk. "Some of what I do to you will hurt. Are you scared of me, Mulder?"

Mulder shook his head defiantly. A hand slapped him lightly, and unexpectedly, across the jaw. "The truth, Mulder," his captor demanded. Mulder was silent for a moment, then he nodded, hesitantly. "Good." The man sounded approving. "As long as you're honest, I think that you and I will get along very well."

Mulder stood stiffly as fingers traced themselves over his naked chest, and round his back. Hands played with his hair, and lips trailed over his bare flesh. He twisted away when he felt the insistent fingers push down into his boxers. There was another laugh, and then a strong arm went around his waist, pulling him close to the rough woollen fabric of his captor's sweater.

"Learn to be obedient, boy, and it'll be easier for you," the man whispered. "Now hold still." Mulder held his breath, and endured the man's hands delving into his boxers, pinching and squeezing his buttocks. "Good boy." The man stopped suddenly. "Here endeth the first lesson," he murmured with a laugh as he withdrew his hands. Mulder felt himself wilt, the tension leaving his body as the other man moved away.

"Time for the second lesson to begin though," his captor told him. "In a minute, I'm going to take your gag off. If you make so much as a sound when I'm done, then I'll take my belt to your ass. Do you understand me?"

Mulder hesitated, thinking about it for a moment.

"I asked you a question," the man barked. Finally, Mulder nodded. "Good." Mulder felt hands on his neck, and then the gag was released, pulled out from his mouth. He worked his jaw a few times, enjoying the freedom.

"You fucking, goddamn son of a fucking goddamn bitch..." he blurted out, and was instantly rewarded by a pair of strong arms pushing him forwards. He flailed into space for a moment, and then found himself over the back of a couch, the soft fabric smooth against his thighs. His boxers were unceremoniously pushed down, and a hand placed on the small of his back. He tensed, and heard a whistling sound, and then the feel of leather against his naked butt.

"Fuck!" he screamed.

"I did warn you. Nobody could say that I'm not a man of my word." His assailant stated implacably. The belt whistled through the air again, and another stroke whipped across his ass, followed by a third and a fourth. Mulder wriggled and hollered, but the onslaught was short, and soon he was pulled to his feet again.

"Rule number one: If you misbehave, I'll punish you. Understood?"

Mulder nodded, mutinously.

"Rule number two: my name is not 'fucking goddamn son of a fucking goddamn bitch.' It's Master, to you at least. Not sir, not any other term of your choosing, just Master. Got that?"

Mulder opened his mouth, and then felt a finger placed across it.

"Rule number three: Only speak when I've given you permission to do so - and I haven't. You can nod to show that you understood rules number two and three."

Mulder thought about it for a moment, but the stinging in his buttocks told him that now was not a good time to voice any further protests about his treatment. He nodded, trying to imbue the gesture with as much rebellion as he could. His "master" laughed.

"Rule number four. You're mine. Think of yourself as my slave and you won't go far wrong. You're here for one purpose only, and that's to please me. Any pleasure you get out of this experience is entirely co-incidental. My pleasure is paramount. Address yourself to my needs, and I'll treat you well. If you're unco-operative, or refuse me in any way, I'll punish you. Always. Understood?"

Mulder opened his mouth, then closed it again, and nodded.

"You're a fast learner. Good. I like that." 'Master' said approvingly. Mulder was surprised to feel a pair of warm lips press against his own, then he was pulled close, two strong hands clasping his burning, abused backside, making him gasp. The lips worked his own open, thrust an eager tongue inside, and explored him roughly before releasing him.

"Rule number five." Master said, without missing a beat. "No begging, whining, or complaining. I can do what the hell I like to you - being your master gives me that right. You just have to accept. I don't mind screaming, or crying. You can do either of those to your heart's content. Nobody will hear you, and nobody will be coming to your rescue, so you can get that out of your head right now. You're here, entirely at my whim, for as long as I choose to play with your pretty young body."

Mulder suddenly felt very vulnerable, standing here, stark naked, his boxer shorts still around his ankles, listening to this man outline his plan for sexual slavery in that smooth, dark voice.

"And another thing." Master stepped close again, putting his hands on Mulder's chest. Mulder flinched, expecting the fingers to pinch or slap him, but instead they trailed sensuously over his naked body, caressing and petting him. Master's head was close to Mulder's ear, and he licked at the lobe, nibbling gently. "I might choose to punish you merely because it pleases me, and because I enjoy seeing your naked ass writhing under my none too tender ministrations." Master slapped Mulder's burning buttocks as if to illustrate the point. "All right. I give you permission to talk. Do you have any questions?" Master asked.

"Untie me?" Mulder suggested, hopefully. Untied he stood at least a chance of being able to fight back, and escape, even if he was still blindfolded. He expected his request to be denied - what he didn't expect was to be tipped back over the couch, and his master's belt applied to his naked backside again for three more swift stripes. Then those strong hands pulled him back up once more.

"What was rule number two?" Master demanded. Mulder tried to collect himself, to ignore his stinging buttocks and remember.

"I have to address you as 'master,'" he muttered, rebelliously.

"All right. Repeat your question to me, but this time ask it properly." Master told him.

"Will you take these goddamn cuffs off me, Master?" Mulder put as much sarcasm into his voice as he could muster, flinching in anticipation of another trip over the back of the couch. He was surprised to hear a roar of laughter from the other man.

"Request granted," Master told him, "but only because I want to slip you into something more comfortable. A word of warning - you've yet to be punished for trying to escape outside. Your insolence and general attitude isn't winning you any brownie points either. Keep this up and when I do eventually take my whip to your ass, it'll be far worse than anything you could ever imagine."

"I'll try and bear that in mind, Master." Mulder hissed.

There was a silence for a moment, and Mulder tensed, unsure what the other man's reaction had been. Then suddenly he felt a slap against his backside, and two hands on his arms, propelling him to a different room. His feet got tangled in his boxer shorts, and he kicked them off, his heart thudding in dread at being moved to a different location. He froze in the doorway, and the other man had to push him into the room.

"Keep walking, boy. " Master commanded, and he stumbled forward. The door was closed behind him, and he shivered as a key was turned in the lock. Master placed him in the center of the room, and then moved away. Mulder stood there, scared. "Welcome to my dungeon, boy." Master told him, and Mulder felt as if a hundred spiders had suddenly crawled into the pit of his stomach. A few dozen more were making their way along his spine. "You can't see this, so let me describe it to you," Master told him. "Stand up straight and listen carefully." Mulder did as he was told, aware of Master walking around the room as he gave his speech.

"The room is painted red. There are two wall lamps burning low, casting shadows into the corners of the room. This places some of the worst instruments of torture into a dim half light so that they can be glimpsed, but not fully seen. The rack is in the corner to your left. I don't anticipate having to use that on you this evening - maybe another time. I think that your stay here will be a long one, my young friend."

Mulder took several deep breaths, imagining himself stretched out on the rack, his limbs tied, his body pulled in different directions, as this dark voiced man whispered to him, all the while applying more and more pressure until he screamed...Mulder let out an involuntary groan.

There was a pause, and Mulder heard the man walk into the other corner of the room. "In this corner there is a whipping post. It's rather formal - steel struts and crossbars, padded leather post, chains attached, ready and waiting. I might tie you up here tonight - but only if you really misbehave. It's something else I anticipate saving for another occasion. I wouldn't want you to have too much fun in one evening."

Fun? Mulder could already feel the kiss of the whip on his back, he could hear the clinking of the chains as he hung helpless, his feet barely touching the ground, could feel the pull on his arms as this man shackled him, and hung him up to be flogged. Mulder bit down on his lip to stop himself from speaking.

"I can see you're a little subdued by the thought of the tortures that await you, my sweet slave." Master chuckled. "Don't be. I'll take very good care of you - I wouldn't want to break my new toy too soon, after all. Half the fun is in curbing a wild spirit, and your spirit, I would guess, is very wild indeed. Isn't that so?"

Mulder shook his head.

"I'll do anything you say," he whispered. "Please..." He let out a yelp as a belt landed across his buttocks. A hand grabbed a fistful of his hair, and he felt his head pulled back.

"What did I say about begging?" The man asked.

"I'm sorry. I won't do it again, Master." Mulder whispered. "Please don't use any of this shit on me though." Mulder gave another yelp as the belt stung a fiery trail across his buttocks once more.

"I'm sure your mother taught you very good manners," his master said, "but it doesn't impress me. Begging is still begging. I'll use anything I like on you, you don't have a say in the matter."

"Yes, Master." Mulder shivered as the other man trailed a fingernail down Mulder's neck, keeping Mulder's head held back, his hair still wrapped in his master's fist.

"Very pretty...very pretty indeed. It needs decoration though." Mulder found himself being dragged into the corner of the room. "I didn't get around to describing this corner," his master said. "Here's where I keep a cabinet full of my toys. Whips, butt plugs, chains, clamps. I have a very special toy here, that I had made just for you. On your knees."

Mulder stood, wanting to defy the other man, yet fearing for his safety if he did. He was bound, naked, blindfolded and helpless on this man's territory. If he refused...he didn't like to contemplate what could happen. Yet his pride was too great for him to submit without a fight. He chose a compromise option, going down on his knees slowly, with a look of insolent disdain on his face. His chin was jerked up, and he felt something cool and metallic slip around his neck. There was a jolt, a sudden snap, and he could feel it fit snugly against his skin.

"That's better." Mulder felt his master's hands on his shoulders. "It suits you. I think this is all the adornment you need. I might keep you like this indefinitely - naked, collared. It pleases me. The collar is engraved. Do you want to know what it says?"

"Oh let me hazard a guess," Mulder growled impudently. "Does it say 'slave' by any chance?"

There was another roar of laughter, and Mulder felt his shoulders lightly caressed by the other man's fingers.

"No, it doesn't say 'slave'." Master leaned down, and took hold of Mulder's chin in his hand. Mulder had a sudden image of how he must look, on his knees, naked, bound, collared, his master looking down on his blindfolded face, savoring his power over his slave. "It says, 'boy'," the man murmured. "I think that suits you - it's what I like to call you."

"I had noticed." Mulder commented.

"You seem to have forgotten rule number two." Master's fingers dug into Mulder's jaw. "I'm willing to let that pass for now though, as I have a little game planned."

"A...game?" Mulder asked, fear suddenly replacing his previous bravado.

"Yes. This..." Master let go of Mulder's jaw, and Mulder felt a long, thin, stiff cord trailed along his chest, and down to his cock. "This is a dressage whip," his master whispered silkily. "You're soon going to come to know it very well. How good is your hearing, Mulder?"

"I'm not sure. Why?" Mulder asked, nervously. The whip hissed through the air, and stung his shoulders.

"Rule number two." Master reminded him.

"Why, Master?" Mulder repeated, trying to sound as insolent as he dared.

"Because you're going to need good hearing to avoid feeling the sting of my whip. Get to your feet."

Mulder obeyed, and was pulled over into the center of the room again.

"Now, I'm going to grant you your request, little one. I'm going to take these nasty metal cuffs off you." Master said, standing behind his captive. Mulder tensed, awaiting his moment - maybe the only moment he would get. If he could act as soon as he had a free hand, then he might be able to pull the blindfold off, and overpower the other man...His heart sank as he felt his master fasten a leather cuff around one of his wrists, and another around the other one. The two were clipped together. Only then were the metal cuffs removed. "There, that's much better. These are lined so they won't cause you any discomfort, boy." Master said. Mulder knew that his last chance of escape had gone, and with it faded his hopes of avoiding his fate. He found himself quivering, shaking with fear and anticipation.

"I hate you. Let me go. Just let me go," he hissed.

"We haven't played yet, boy," his master reminded him. "The fun is only just beginning. Trust me, and you'll enjoy yourself so much more. You will give in eventually. I'll make you." The other man's voice was so low and silky that Mulder felt a wave of sweat rise all over his body in tiny pinpricks. "Now...why don't we test how good your reflexes are?"

The man gave Mulder a push, and then walked a few steps away. Mulder stood still, trying to gauge where his master was, his stomach churning in anticipation of playing this "game". Then he let out a yelp as the dressage whip made stinging contact with his thigh. He moved quickly, as far away from where he thought the other man was standing as he could get, then paused, listening. When he heard movement, he starting to run again, scrambling to get out of the other man's way and avoid the stinging caress of the whip. He was successful, pausing for breath, listening to see if he could hear where his captor stood. There was a sudden movement, and he ran again -in the wrong direction. This time the whip found its mark and he squealed as it stung his backside. The whip was light and thin, but even so, each lick hurt.

Mulder stopped again, straining his ears to hear where his master was. Was he near enough to flick the whip in Mulder's direction without having to move? Mulder tensed, then decided it was better to dart, than to wait and be a sitting target. He ran across the room, his arms still fastened behind him, blindfold in place. He almost avoided the lash - it caught him on his shoulder, barely touching him. <Hah!> he thought triumphantly, glad to have won even a small victory.

A few seconds later, he moved again, pleased with the way he seemed to be winning this game. He paused once more, listening, located the other man's breathing and ran in the opposite direction, grinning as he heard a stifled curse. He waited, then ran again, with more confidence this time, pausing, sensing where the other man stood, and running in the opposite direction...straight into a pair of big arms. He flailed around for a moment, trying to escape, but his master grasped him tight.

"Looks like I've won, boy. I think I deserve a prize, don't you? What do you think it should be?"

"I don't know, and I don't fucking care," Mulder muttered sulkily. "Master," he added, just to be on the safe side.

"Well, I haven't tasted any of your pretty flesh yet, so maybe now is the time. It might also serve as a little correction for your attitude and poor choice of words. Come here."

Mulder felt himself pulled over to the side of the room, and then he heard his master seating himself. "Straddle me." He had no choice but to obey, as big arms grabbed him, and he felt hard, muscular thighs beneath his own. He felt stupid, sitting here on this man's lap, facing his captor, his master's hands pressing into the small of his back, as his tongue lapped against Mulder's nipples.

Mulder gasped, and tried to swivel away, but was held tight, unable to escape the embrace. His nipples stiffened, as his master sucked, gently at first, on one, and then the other. Whichever nipple his mouth was not fastened on, received the attention of his pinching fingertips, until Mulder was groaning under the double assault. "Be still." His master thundered, breaking off from his play. "Hold quite still or I'll whip your ass so hard you won't ever sit down again." Mulder tried to do as he was told, but the man's teeth were nipping him now, tugging at his nipples, and pulling them until they were sore.

"Please..." Mulder whimpered, and he was rewarded almost immediately by a bite to his left nipple that made him cry out loud.

"Rule number 5, boy. What was it?" Master asked, his fingers pinching both Mulder's nipples cruelly.

"No...begging...Master." Mulder gasped.

"Good boy." The man released his grip. "I can see that you're more obedient when these little toys are being tortured." He ran gentle fingers over the reddened nipples. "Perhaps we should make you more constantly aware of them." Mulder heard a box being opened, and then a jangling sound. He flinched as the other man took one of his nipples between his thumb and forefinger, and then he screamed out loud as something hard clamped down over the sore nub of flesh.

"Oh god...pl..." he broke off the plea just in time.

"Good boy. You'll become accustomed to the pain...soon it'll just feel uncomfortably numb. Now, let's turn our attention to the other one, shall we?"

Mulder shivered in anticipation as the man pinched his other nipple, then fastened the cool metal of the clamp over that, and allowed it to spring shut.

"Fuck!" His body jack-knifed into the air, and was held in place by two strong arms. "Too hard... hurts too much..." he gasped, struggling desperately in his bonds, wanting to unfasten the two devices of torture from his chest, but unable to do more than sit, straddling his master, awaiting the next torment. Sweat broke out on his body again, and he hung his head, moaning softly to himself.

"There, there...become accustomed to the pain, boy. These clamps are so pretty that I think I'll leave them on you for some time," his master chuckled. Mulder felt a fingernail rub against a tiny portion of exposed nipple squeezed between the clamps, and he let out a squeal. "Hush...it's not so bad, boy, and it pleases me. You want to please me, don't you?" His master asked. Mulder shook the sweaty hair off his face.

"I..."

"Don't you?" His master flicked one of the clamps so that it twisted the squeezed flesh cruelly, and Mulder nodded over and over again.

"Yes!" he yelled. "Yes, Master. I want to please you."

"Good boy." The other man kissed Mulder's lips gently. "I'm glad you're trying so hard, and the clamps really do look very pretty. Maybe I'll have you pierced at some point - you look good with chains hanging from your nipples."

"Whatever...you...say...Master." Mulder choked.

"Good. Very good. You really are learning. I like that. Time for a little reward then." The man ran his hands over Mulder's body caressing gently, kindly, and finally ended up at Mulder's cock which he took in his palm. Mulder cried out as the skilful fingers worked on his erect penis, sliding over it until he couldn't stop himself thrusting into that hand, wanting his release.

"Little slut," the other man chuckled. "So easily tamed. A little light pressure in a sensitive place and you'd belong to anyone." His hand withdrew abruptly, leaving Mulder on the brink, his cock desperate for release.

"Fuck...no! You can't just..." Mulder cried out in protest. A sharp slap to his thigh stopped him.

"Rule number five, boy," the other man reminded him. "Well?" he barked.

"No...complaining." Mulder muttered.

"Good. Now, you've built yourself up quite a punishment. First running away, then your general attitude. I'm afraid, boy, that I'm going to have to be very harsh with you."

Mulder felt his stomach tighten, and he leaned his head forward to rest against the other man's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Master," he whispered.

"Very pretty, but, unfortunately for you, it won't work," his master chuckled.

He pushed Mulder to his feet, his fingers caressing Mulder's body, tweaking his flesh, twisting the nipple clamps and scratching at the exposed portions of reddened, painful nipple as he continued talking. "I'm sure that you are feeling very sorry - for yourself. However I should warn you that I've only just started with you. You have a long way to go yet, boy, and I'm not fooled by this play-acting. We have all the time in the world to whip you into shape. Pun most definitely intended. Now, come over here."

Mulder felt the clink of a chain being attached to his collar, and then a tug on it made him follow the other man. He felt powerless, his hands still fastened behind his back, his neck collared, fastened to the chain his captor was holding. "This is a harness." Mulder stood still as his master attached thin strips of leather at strategic points over his body. "I'm going to use it to suspend you in the air. I should warn you now, that any hope you have of retaining your dignity is a forlorn one. I intend to make sure that you have no dignity left by the time I'm through with you. Spread your arms...that's good. Now your legs. Good." Mulder closed his eyes under the blindfold, suddenly afraid of what was coming next.

"Permission to speak, Master," he whispered.

"Granted."

"I...will you...?" Mulder hesitated, scared to ask the question.

"Will I fuck you? Of course. A pretty boy like you - naked, captive, in my power. What the hell did you think I was going to do to you?" The other man's voice was like a steel vice - cold, hard, and unyielding. "But first, I'm going to take you to the edge of your endurance."

Mulder was aware of a sudden pulling on his arms, and then he found himself lifted into the air. His legs were subject to the same sort of pressure, and pulled back, away from his body, and then he found himself suspended in mid-air, lying flat on his stomach. He could feel the harness taking his weight. Then his knees were pulled forward, his legs stretched apart, leaving him wide open, and vulnerable, and yet curiously comfortable too, floating in this limbo, fully supported by the harness. He tried to struggle, pointlessly, against his bonds for a while, and then gave in.

"Good boy. You're sweating...are you too warm?" his master asked. "Let me find something to cool you down." A few seconds later, Mulder screamed out loud as something freezing cold slid down his back.

"Fuck, fuck...fuck you!" he yelled.

"Hush. Just an ice cube. Nothing to make such a fuss about." His master trailed the ice cube along Mulder's back and shoulders, down across his chest, then onto his legs, and between them, running it down his thick hard cock, then sliding it into Mulder's anus.

"No, no, not there." Mulder struggled again, fruitlessly.

"Damn. Now you're all wet. Perhaps we should dry you off?" Mulder stopped struggling, wondering what would happen next. He soon found out as he heard the sound of a hairdryer being switched on. He almost burst out laughing at the sound of something so mundane and everyday, in this surreal environment.

"No. Stop."

"Stop? I've only just started."

Mulder tensed as the warm air blew over him, but he gradually relaxed. This was actually quite nice - nothing painful, just nice, warm air, cooling on his skin, drying the moisture from the ice, and from his own sweat, wafting over him - and staying just a little bit too long...

"Fuck." He pulled against his bonds. The hairdryer moved to his shoulder, stayed there until it just began to burn, and then moved onto the next portion of flesh to be tortured. "Fuck, fuck..." Mulder cried out, as each time the hairdryer stayed in position for longer and longer, making him sweat again. Occasionally, Master would simply move the hairdryer over his body, caressing him with the warm air until he relaxed, feeling safe, and then, out of the blue, the current would linger in one place until it started to hurt, and he cried out again. He felt as if his whole body was a bundle of sensitized nerve endings, responding to the smallest stimuli - the lightest touch of a finger, the slightest breeze of air. His hard cock was only one focus of the intense sensations in his body - all of his skin seemed to have been turned into one giant erogenous zone.

Finally his master tired of this game, and the hairdryer was turned off.

"You know, I think it's time for the real fun to start," the other man said. "How much more can you take, little one?"

"No more, Master." Mulder said promptly.

"But you must," the other man stated implacably. "I haven't punished you yet, and it pleases me to punish you, to see you wriggle and squirm. Can you feel this?" Mulder nodded, his body aware of the cool leather crop that was caressing him, finding the crack between his buttocks and rubbing suggestively inside. He relaxed as the crop did nothing more frightening than lightly touch his flesh, making his sensitized skin tingle. Then, without warning, the crop made resounding contact with his buttocks, and he screamed.

"You're right to protest, boy," his master mused. "We're missing something aren't we? Ah...I know what. Let's prepare you for my attentions later on. I think a little stretching is in order. Hold still." Mulder had no choice but to do just that, trussed as he was, hanging in space. He craned his neck, straining to hear what new instrument of torture his master had gone to find. A sudden twist to one of the nipple clamps brought him back to his body with a scream. "Concentrate on yourself, not what I'm doing. I want you to feel every last sensation," his master hissed. Mulder felt questing fingers prize his buttocks apart, and then a cool, slickly lubed finger made its way inside him. He tensed up at the intrusion, fighting it, and was rewarded by a slap on his sore backside. "Open, boy. What was rule number four?"

"Um..." Mulder tried to think as the finger probed deeper inside him.

"Well? I'm waiting." Another slap on his buttocks."

"I'm to co-operate. I'm not allowed to refuse, master." Mulder gasped at last.

"That's right. And tensing yourself up like this is refusing. Relax those muscles..." Mulder struggled to comply, and soon another finger joined the first, stretching the tight ring of muscle. "Good. Now, let's keep you that way until I'm ready to use you, shall we?"

Mulder gave a strangled cry as a cool, lubed object was pushed deep into his anus.

"Now, I want you to keep this butt plug here. If it moves, or you push it out, then you'll be punished. Understood?" The other man asked implacably.

"Yes, Master." Mulder whispered, clenching his buttocks around the unwelcome invader, aware of it filling him uncomfortably.

"Good..." Another smack of the riding crop assaulted Mulder's buttocks and he jerked in his harness. Then another, harder smack, across the center of his backside.

"Shit..." he twisted, trying to escape each hard, stinging stroke of the crop as they rained down on his buttocks. He could feel the plug inside him coming loose, and tightened his muscles around it, not wanting to give the other man any further misdeed to punish him for.

The crop alternated between caressing his prone body, and striking down on his backside, gently touching against his flesh one moment, and the next striping his skin with some force. Mulder cried out weakly, unable to take much more, his whole body on edge. Finally the torment stopped, and Mulder felt hands on the side of his face, and another kiss on his lips. It was a long, deep kiss, the other man's tongue pressing inside him, claiming him, and he gave in, offering himself up to it, returning it with passion.

"Good boy." His master said gently when the kiss finished, stroking Mulder's sweaty hair. "Have you been punished enough for your insolence, and for running away, boy?"

"Yes, Master," Mulder muttered weakly, his head hanging down.

"Do you want me to fuck you now?" The man asked.

"Yes, Master." Mulder nodded. "If it pleases you, Master."

"It does." The other man chuckled. "It certainly does. Open your mouth, boy." Mulder did as he was told, and felt the other man's hard cock push between his lips. He accepted it into his mouth, sucking on the swollen cock, taking it deep into his throat, unable to serve with any other part of his body than his lips.

His master sighed, and gently caressed Mulder's hair, fondling his ears and murmuring endearments to his slave. After a while, his thrusting grew more urgent, and he finally withdrew from Mulder's mouth with a regretful sigh, trailing his fingers over Mulder's captive flesh as he walked down to the other end of Mulder's body. Mulder heard the sound of a condom being unwrapped, and then tensed as the plug was pulled out from between his buttocks, and his master's fingers caressed the sore flesh, pulling them apart, and then, without warning, he felt his master's cock push him open and enter deep inside him. He moaned, abandoning himself to his bonds which held him up, even though every single muscle in his body had been turned into jello. All he could feel was that hard length thrusting deep inside him, caressing his prostate with each thrust, angling into his prone body, claiming him with each deep forward push. His master squeezed his sore buttocks lightly, and Mulder cried out with the mingled pleasure-pain of the sensation, gripping the invading cock even more tightly inside him.

With Mulder trussed up in this exposed position, the other man was able to penetrate more easily and deeply than would normally have been possible, and Mulder felt as if he had been impaled on that cock, accepting it deeper and deeper inside his body until he was sure he couldn't take it any further. He could feel his master's thighs against his own body, and his hands still insistently running over Mulder's sore buttocks. Then the other man's hands slid higher, his body almost lying on top of Mulder's, the fabric of his sweater itching unbearably on Mulder's deeply sensitized skin. Mulder felt his master slide his hands sensuously down under his belly until the other man found his engorged cock, which he fondled and stroked as he continued to thrust deep inside Mulder's captive body. Mulder cried out, sure that he would come, and then, just when he felt on the brink, the other man's hands moved up, and removed the nipple clamps with one swift movement. For a moment Mulder felt nothing, and then sensation flooded back into his nipples, and he cried out, and came, in one blinding flash of white light that took his senses away and left him dazed.

He was dimly aware that the other man had reached his own climax, and withdrawn from his body. He could hear him moving around the room, but Mulder just lay there, utterly exhausted, and totally sated.

After a while, Mulder came to, moaning softly to himself. He felt a gentle hand on his head, and his blindfold was removed. The lights were dimmed, and didn't hurt his eyes, but all the same, it took him a while to become accustomed to the colors.

"All right, sweetheart?" A myriad of tiny kisses were bestowed on his hair, and his lips, as he lay there, blindly accepting. "Mulder...are you all right?"

"Yes," he sighed. "Oh god, yes."

"Come on, birthday boy, let's get you untied."

He was lowered gently to the floor, and the harness was unbuckled and removed from his body. Mulder allowed himself to be half led, half carried, over to a bed in the corner of the room.

"I pushed it over here to make more room for the games," the other man explained.

"Hmmm, you told me there was a rack over here. I'm disappointed, Walter." Mulder muttered, lying on the bed.

"I was trying to set the scene for you. You didn't really think I was going to go out and buy all that stuff did you?" Skinner grinned down at him, and sat next to him on the bed. He undid Mulder's handcuffs, and gently kissed his wrists, rubbing at the red lines on them. "Damn, I hate those metallic handcuffs I used at the beginning. I knew they were a bad idea."

"No...I liked them..." Mulder murmured, reaching up and tenderly touching Skinner's shoulder.

"Did I get it right?" Skinner asked eagerly. "I tried to follow your fantasy exactly. Did I do it right?"

"You were...amazing." Mulder replied, shaking his head. "I can't believe you planned all this, just for me."

"I wanted to give you something special for your birthday." Skinner kissed his forehead. "I felt a bit stupid at first...and I was worried when you ran away at the beginning that you were really scared, that you'd forgotten your safe sign."

"Hell, no. I was just trying to give you something to punish me for," Mulder laughed. "I wanted to get into the headspace as well by thinking rebellious thoughts. I love it when someone big and macho reduces me to a quivering mess. I like to feel I'm resisting - at the beginning at least."

"Yeah, I did wonder if I was going to have some trouble controlling you." Skinner commented, with a wry chuckle. "Here, bend forward. I'll undo the collar."

"Ah, it seems a shame to give that up." Mulder sighed, as Skinner undid it, and slid it away from his neck. "Liar!" he exclaimed, as he fingered the engraving on it. "It does say 'slave'".

"Well of course it does." Skinner grinned. "You didn't think I was going to give you the satisfaction of knowing you'd got it right though, do you?"

"Cheat." Mulder giggled, finally getting enough strength back in his muscles to put his arms around the other man, and draw him close. "I can't thank you enough. I don't think I've ever been on the brink for so long, or come so hard in my entire life. There's never been a scene like it."

"I didn't go too far? I kept waiting for you to say your safe word but you didn't."

"You never go too far, Walter. You could have punished me a lot more for the way I mouthed off!" Mulder remonstrated with a laugh.

"I thought I punished you enough." Skinner shook his head. "I know you always say you can take more, but I feel uneasy about handing out too much."

"It was perfect. The constant threat of punishment, and just enough hint of pain, but not too much to spoil the eroticism," Mulder reassured his lover.

"And you weren't expecting it?" Skinner asked, a shy smile on his lips.

"No, I had no idea. I think that's partly what made it so delicious. I recognized your voice immediately of course, and I caught a glimpse of you before you blindfolded me, but after that, I just gave myself up to whatever you had planned. I don't think I could have guessed it would be anything this good."

"I'm glad. Happy Birthday. There's cake, and champagne, and a proper present, but..."

Mulder put a finger over the other man's lips, and then replaced it with his own mouth, and kissed Skinner soundly. When he finished, he glanced around the room. It was a mess, with abandoned toys everywhere. He looked up at the ceiling and saw the hooks, and an elaborate pulley system.

"It took me ages to put up," Skinner admitted. "I wanted it to be safe. I figured it might come in handy on other occasions too."

"Oh, I think we'll find a use for it," Mulder grinned. "Aw..." Mulder pointed at the other corner. "No whipping post either. I could really see that as well!"

"Maybe next year." Skinner cuffed him lightly on the shoulder. "Talking of which, I know it's another 8 months until my birthday, but if you want to work on that already very sexy command voice of yours, I promise that I'll be receptive."

"You bet, boy." Mulder went back for another kiss. "I don't think I could come up with anything to beat this though. This was truly amazing. I don't deserve you, Walter." He lay back and fondled his lover's bald head, gazing deeply into his dark eyes until Skinner blushed.

"I just wanted to act out your fantasy for you, to do something totally unexpected, so that you'd have no control over it, like you wanted."

"You succeeded - beyond my wildest dreams." Mulder sighed. "Why are you so good to me, Walter?"

"I don't know." Skinner picked up one of Mulder's hands, and kissed it. "Maybe because I love you so much that I'd do anything for you." His lips pressed against each fingertip, and he smiled at the other man, his eyes shining. "And because, my love, you've caught me within your spell, and I remain utterly captivated, totally enchanted and completely...enslaved."

THE END.

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